


Hard time forgiving, Even harder forgetting

by LunaCanisLupus_22



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Anal Sex, Assassination, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky starts to fix himself, Bucky wants to take care of Steve, Hydra everywhere, IKEA, Intentionally dorky, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Past Brainwashing, Protective Bucky Barnes, Recovered Memories, Steve is not okay with that, Thievery, bamf winter soldier, happy endings, illegally of course, reference to past sexual abuse, slightly fluffy, sort of canon compliant, sweet old ladies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaCanisLupus_22/pseuds/LunaCanisLupus_22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes walking down a crowded street in Brooklyn hours later to realise what the emotion is. He’s passing a small child with its mother, smacking their small hands demandingly against the glass of an icecream shop. The child’s eyes are wet with tears. </p><p>He shies away from it. Particularly sensitive to the sound of children screaming. It’s only after he’s out of hearing that his head clears enough for him to realise. What he’s been feeling around Steve.</p><p>Want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard time forgiving, Even harder forgetting

**Author's Note:**

> Follows the storyline after Captain America: Winter Soldier. Title inspired by Seinabo Sey's song [Hard Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgdOs5-3VWQ).

The first thing that the Winter Soldier sees once his eyes open is a man’s face. Analytically he understands it’s his own reflection through the glass of the cryochamber but without recognition of it. 

The men in labcoats assist him from the machine and his body is taut like a bowstring when they run tests to ensure that his muscles haven’t atrophied over time. The needle goes deep into the skin of his arm, drawing out blood and he watches the jaw of the scientist tick when his fingers twitch in reaction. 

The man subconsciously leans his body away from his exposed metal arm draped across the table. A mark of self-preservation.  


The manila folder is placed on a table in front of him; a new assignment for when the tests are finished. No one ever hands things to him directly. They know even as weak as being under for too long might make him the amount of real damage he can do.

Another needle. This one into the back of his neck. There is no preparation for it; no warning. But he feels the spark of pain and knows that it is the only sensation the scientists allow him. To make him stronger.  


The needle goes deeper.  


The Winter Soldier’s metal fist clenches.

  


  


The mechanism in his arm adjusts and expands to support the weight of Captain America as he drags his unconscious body from the water. He gently releases him onto the bank of the river, ignoring the sounds of the Hellicarrier as it continues its descent to the bottom of the Potomac.  


He needs to regroup. The mission has failed and he will be terminated for it. He knows that Captain America- _Steve _\- will do anything to help him but he can’t bear to look at him now, to see the recognition in his eyes and his disappointment for not returning it.__  


He may not be much of a Winter Soldier anymore but he certainly isn’t James Buchanan Barnes.

  


  


In the end he lets them take him. Hydra. Knows what it could mean. But he hasn’t felt fear since he fell. The memories are slipping through the cracks Hydra created. He thinks given time he might start to remember everything.  


That’s the problem.  


They don’t terminate him like he expects. But the needle biting into his flesh is just as telling.  


They’re going to wipe him. To start again with a more malleable subject.  


For once, he has no intention of letting them.  


When his vision blurs out the last thing he sees is Steve’s face on one of their telemonitors; searching for him.

  


  


They don’t place him into cryogenic stasis afterward. Captain America is their main priority. They send him back out into the field immediately.  


Only he’s noticing things now. How cold the chamber that houses him is. The time passing. The way his mind feels different than it usually does. His memory isn’t a blank space. Almost like it’s recovering.  


He hasn’t lost everything. There’s an awareness in his subconscious. Something that lingered across the wipe.  


He doesn’t understand. But he’s gathering intel before approaching the problem fully. And it’s best to do that under the thumb of Hydra. The most efficient way. He knows Hydra have their claws in nearly everything.  


It’s going to be almost impossible to take them all out. But he plans to. He has more than enough time on his hands.  


His next assignment takes him to New York. They haven’t briefed him on the contents of the assignment which though not unusual, draws suspicion. Caution. From the vantage point he and the four HYDRA support team are stationed at he catches the first glimpse of their target.  


It’s the shield he spots first. Something tugs in his gut when Captain America turns and reveals his face to the crowd. He's followed onstage by a red head and a man with sharp eyes and a hand on her lower back with a tendency to roll his shoulders as if to prevent reaching behind himself for a weapon. Arrows, he thinks. An expert marksmen.  


The photographers announce his arrival and he figures out they’re witnessing a press conference. The microphone carries the conversation across the open space and he realises that Captain America is explaining what happened in DC in the Potomac River.  


Defending him.  


Something constricts his chest at that. It’s an emotion. One he hasn’t felt in a while. It completely takes over. Distracting enough that he almost doesn’t see the Hydra agent raise the semi automatic rifle in his peripheral.  


He’s moving before he knows what the action is, seizing the weapon with his metal hand and tearing it from the man’s grip with such force that he actually hears the arm dislocate.  


He doubles over in agony. The Winter Soldier points the butt of the gun towards the floor.  


“He’s mine,” he says.  


The Hydra agents flinch. He knows it’s the first time he’s spoken on an assignment without being prompted. The first comment that makes him sound almost human. Дерьмо́.  


The words reveal too much. He moves quickly before they can attempt to contact HQ. He breaks the two men’s necks closest to him before they can react. The third is too startled to put up much of a fight, barely defending himself before the Winter Soldier eliminates him as well.  


The last man actually has enough time to let out a cry of alarm, panic overriding his training to remain inconspicuous. He pulls his lifeless body out of view but catches the attention of Steve’s friends.  


The red head stares at him with shock and a memory flickers to the forefront of his mind. He doesn’t have time to comprehend that he knows her before ducking low, retrieving the grenade from his tool belt.  


There’s no time for a subtle clean up of the scene. He’s already been spotted. SHIELD is probably on their way along with Hydra to terminate him. It’s a matter of whoever gets there first. The building has been emptied for Steve’s press conference so he knows he can do this with minimal damage.  


He backs away to the building’s edge and pulls the pin. Rolls it toward the scattered pile of dead men and doesn’t wait to see the result. He turns and throws himself off of the building, metal arm outstretched and ready to latch onto the metal rungs of the old fire escape. Drops quietly to the ground as the roof explodes.  


He pulls the gun free from the holster at the back of his neck as he lands, preparing to disappear as quickly as he can.  


There’s an NYPD road block that wasn’t there when they accessed the vantage point earlier and he sees the press conference now for the trap that it was. Steve’s been looking for him since he went under and finally succeeded in luring him out. Hydra had known and sent him in anyway. Mutually assured destruction.  


They see him almost immediately. His black gear reveals him for what he is and his metal arm glints in the sunlight like an announcement. But Steve can’t think he would just go quietly. He’s not that stupid.  


He fires before he thinks it through but it’s a warning shot that ricochets off of the police car. For once he’s not trying to kill. And he’s already running before they reconvene and start shooting.  


He gets trapped between two police cars when they recover and fire the first shot. Something hits him from the wrong direction, from behind and pushes him to the concrete. His hands flatten to the ground to prevent breaking the bones in his face and warm breath brushes against the back of his neck non-threateningly.  


“Hold your fire!” Steve shouts, close to his ear.  


He realises that he’s covering his body, pinning him down to protect him. The Winter Soldier gasps noiselessly into the concrete, panting as the emotion rips through him again.  


He’s seen panic before. Especially in his targets. He knows the signs; how to look for it to gain an advantage. Hydra has trained him in every stage of combatant responses to new threats and situations. There’s nothing he can’t predict.  


He’s been experimented on to the degree that he no longer should feel anything but pain. Logically, he knows what his best response is to ensure survival.  


The Winter Soldier is nothing but rational. His response however, is anything but. Because Steve is so close that he can actually _smell _him.__

The rich, sharp scent of the material of his uniform layered with what Steve always smells like; sweat, fresh lead pencil shavings and Brooklyn. The Brooklyn they grew up in together.  


“Bucky?” Steve says, gently and sounding so damn hopeful that it rips him wide open.  


He panics.  


Using the strength of his metal arm as resistance he pushes backwards to buck Steve off. Anything to get away from him. And what he’s making him feel. It leaves him untethered. Out of control.  


Afraid, he wordlessly thinks.  


Next thing he’s aware of he’s on his feet. And running. He knows what’s behind him. Steve. His past. And everything he’s ever done.  


There’s so much he’s done.  


He knows fear now. And his past. Knows enough to be afraid of it.  


Nobody tries to stop him. It’s that what makes him run all the faster.

  


  


It takes walking down a crowded street in Brooklyn hours later to realise what the emotion is. He’s passing a small child with its mother, smacking their small hands demandingly against the glass of an icecream shop.  


“I want one!” the child shrieks, stamping his feet as he begs. The child’s eyes are wet with tears. He shies away from it. Particularly sensitive to the sound of children screaming as he ducks his head and increases his pace. 

It’s only after he’s out of hearing that his head clears enough for him to realise. What he’s been feeling around Steve.  


Want.

  


  


 

Steve’s window opens easily like he uses it to enter his apartment often and the Winter Soldier frowns as he silently creeps inside. He goes to each point of entry and every window throughout the apartment. 

Checks them all. Twice. He tries to approach the layout as himself. How he would attack. He is both Bucky Barnes, the sniper and the Winter Soldier, the soviet assassin as he works.  


It’s worse than he expected. The apartment is way too open. Exposed. He resolves to steal Steve some curtains as soon as he can. 

And his shield.  


Steve doesn’t even sleep with it in his room- the one place he’s avoided so far and he locates it propped up against the main hallway wall like a bizarre accessory. He frowns and cautiously picks it up, steals his way into the kitchen.  


There are no knives within reach near the stove and he adds knife block to his list of things to return with. Steve has been ridiculously overconfident with the safety of his living space.  


He’s scowling by the time he’s finished searching all of the drawers and opens the fridge. The shield is starting to get heavy in his grip so he switches it to his metal arm to lift it without strain as he peers inside. Analyses the kind of food Steve’s been eating.  


Leftover takeout and unopened wrapped lasagne dishes. Probably from the old woman in the unit next door.  


He adds some fruit and vegetables to his list as well.  


Time quickly passes while he’s sorting through the rest and he throws Steve’s out of date milk in the trash while he’s at it. He makes a silent plan to research the type of diet Steve should be eating as a super soldier. He assumes the serum means that his calorie intake should be much higher. His own normally is.  


He drifts out to the living room. Finds Steve’s lost remote beneath the couch cushions and a few stray pencils for sketching. His eyes spot an old leather bound book beneath some copies of TIME Magazine and recognises it. He memorises the placing of the table before he upsets the image and draws it out from underneath the pile.  


He remembers now. Steve’s sketchbook. He'd scraped together any extra money he could find for a couple years to be able to afford it and Steve had refused to accept the gift. He’d pushed hard, he remembers, insisting that Steve could accept it as his Christmas/birthday present until he was an old and grey.  


In the end he’d worn him down. He recalls it was a rare occurrence. He sets the shield down on the couch and metal softly traces the leather before opening it. The paper is old and dated at the beginning. Some sketches he actually remembers Steve drawing before he gets further in and the paper changes.  


He observes the excellent condition it’s in and realises that Steve had it restored. He flicks through until he reaches the most recent one.  


It’s him. The Winter Soldier. And Steve’s drawn him in such a way that strips away all his cold lines and hard edges. He draws him softer, like he knows a secret nobody else does.  


Draws him with recognition.  


He feels warmth spread within him. After he’s done, he places it back into its exact spot so that Steve won’t see anything amiss and fixes the magazines back to the pile. He picks up the shield again and once he’s satisfied with the room he goes on to the next one.  


The next one is a small training room that holds some of the biggest weights that he’s ever seen but he knows from the earlier days of following him before he remembered who he was that Steve goes to the gym a lot.  


This is probably so he can lift weights harder without making any of the other men at the gym he frequents feel impotent. And emasculated. It’s Steve through and through. He smiles wryly once he’s locked the window and moves on.  


It takes under ten minutes for him to secure the apartment as best as he can before he braves Steve’s bedroom.  


He still sleeps with the door open. Just like their Brooklyn days when Bucky insisted so he could listen out if Steve suffered an asthma attack through the night. And he could check up on him.  


Old habits are hard to break.  


He approaches the bed, averts his eyes from Steve’s sleeping figure as he sets the shield against the edge of the bed, near enough for Steve to reach for it if necessary.  


A soft breeze ruffles his hair and he turns towards the window Steve’s bed is beneath which is wide open. His jaw clenches and his metal arm whirs when he closes it into a fist. He stills and finally looks at Steve to see if the sound woke him.  


It hasn’t. He grinds his teeth in frustration.  


He thinks Steve might be trying to inadvertently kill himself. Scowling, he slips forward and is forced to lean over Steve’s sleeping form to close the window.  


It’s closer than he’d prefer. Enough that he can feel the heat of Steve’s body and he swallows around the want stirring within him as he slides the window shut without a sound. He knows it will expose his presence to Steve when he wakes up tomorrow but he’s willing to take the risk.  


The close proximity reveals him anyway and Steve seemingly stirs, inhaling deeply as movement picks up beneath his eyelids. He realises that it’s been a while since he showered and Steve is probably smelling him right now.  


He wrenches back and silently slips from the room before Steve fully wakes and vows to return better prepared next time.  


He goes out the window again. Sets up perimeter alarms around Steve’s apartment so that he can be alerted to any visitors other than himself and doubles back to enter the apartment block through the main doors. The mechanical lock is simple to reconfigure and once he’s inside the main lobby he does a sweep of the mail room, checks Steve's mailbox for any potential bombs and then makes his way to the first floor.  


He breaks into the first apartment and starts searching around. A woman in her mid twenties lives there and his arrival is announced to the various cats strutting around the apartment. They don’t really acknowledge him besides nuzzling and weaving around his legs as he checks for evidence of a Hydra agent so he leaves them be.  


The only thing she’s guilty of is having a large amount of red wine stored in her cupboards. He thinks she might be lonely. He leaves 1A and moves on to 1B. Searching them all doesn’t take him very long. The residents don’t bother with deadbolts because of the locked entrance to the complex and their lack of caution makes it easier to screen them.  


No one raises any red flags until 3B but that’s only because the door is deadbolted. It’s not particularly difficult but time consuming to break so he moves back into 3A to use their window to cross over the fire escape and force his way in. 3B belongs to a man, unusually clean for his age and the place is littered with photographs. A lot of them featuring animals. The various cameras around the open space suggest he’s a photographer. The self installed deadbolt suggests he's smart.  


At first he’s suspicious. Photographer is a great cover for surveillance but once he looks through the proofs he knows the man is legit. He takes photos of nearly everything. Mostly his surroundings. He pauses as one catches his attention.  


It’s the woman from 1A. He’s caught a shot of her ducking out of the rain and into their building. And while she’s not directly in sight of the camera- the focal point is the building itself- he can tell that the photo with her in it was intentional. The edges are worn, as if his fingers have held it for too long, studying the image. He checks for proof of any other emotional commitments before he leaves, satisfied.  


He encounters a problem on Steve’s level. 6D. The apartment is bare. Only essentials and he recognises that for what it is. Someone ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Or a phone call.  


Hydra.  


He finds a gun beneath the kitchen counter. It settles his mind. Knowing that he was right. Steve actually is in danger. He pulls the cable ties from his tool belt as well as pliers he found in one of the drawers.  


The man doesn’t stir until the Winter Soldier is on top of his chest. He pins his arms as the man wakes up and forces his mouth open to remove his tooth which houses the cyanide capsule. The man instantly recognises him. His eyes widen and he tries to scream. Bite with his teeth.  


The nearby pillow draws his gaze. He thinks how easy it would be to smother him.  


But he won’t. He can choose now. Think for himself for the first time in nearly seventy years.  


He won’t choose this.  


He knocks the man unconscious. Then quickly binds his hands and legs. He grabs a ziplock bag from the kitchen and puts the tooth into it for evidence later. He ties it around the Hydra agent’s neck and hauls his unconscious body over his shoulder.  


It’s easier to take him out the fire escape. It’s still late enough that he can pass by unnoticed and he makes his way over to SHIELD. They may have disbanded but he knows they’re still out there looking for the remaining Hydra cells. He knows it will get back to them if he leaves the Hydra agent there. Might even be helpful in their search if they can question him.  


It’s nearly sunrise once he reaches SHIELD and breaks into the main lobby. It’s much easier with the lack of security. He deposits the agent and chains him to the reception desk in case he manages to get free from his bonds but he doubts it.  


He leaves the man half naked and unconscious and smashes a nearby window to set off the alarm to draw the police there. The sunlight is bright as he makes his way through the empty streets and he slips into a nearby alley when the sirens draw near.  


He follows a fire escape and climbs the roof of a building with multiple exits. He curls up underneath an overhang just as the sun peeks over the horizon. And falls asleep.

  


  


 

He can only sleep about four hours before the nightmares set in. What’s worse is that he’s not convinced they are nightmares. He thinks they might be memories. Of his kills. Resurfacing.  


He wishes they were just nightmares. 

By the time he wakes up again he’s covered in a cold sweat and shaking violently. He sits there and breathes deeply until night has fallen. Then he wanders the city streets until he finds what he’s looking for. He breaks into IKEA just past midnight. They have everything he needs to sort out Steve’s apartment.  


He’s in and out in fifteen minutes and it only takes that long because the store is so big he actually has trouble finding the exit. He goes and steals some food from a restaurant that’s just closed its doors and eats whatever leftovers he can scavenge. He kills time wandering the streets and making sure he familiarises himself with Steve’s neighbourhood in case the information can save his life in the future.  


He doesn’t know what to expect when he makes his way back to Steve’s place. But it’s definitely not the window he came through last night being left wide open. He scowls around his handful of items but ducks through the opening anyway.  


The first thing he sees on the couch is Steve sprawled across it. He nearly drops everything before he realises Steve is actually asleep. The lamp next to him is still on and he thinks maybe Steve was trying to stay up and wait for his intruder. 

“Идиот,” he mutters quietly.

He sets to work and places all of the new things in Steve’s apartment. He doesn’t leave until he’s located a blanket and placed it over Steve’s sleeping form.

He goes out the front door and down the hallway. Uses the Hydra agent’s key to get into 6D. He hesitates on the threshold and leaves the door ajar to go downstairs to the mail room when a thought crosses his mind. He breaks into 3B’s mailbox and steals one of the photographer's envelopes which could only be a bill before switching it to 1A’s box.

He doesn’t know much about romance anymore but he figures planting seeds can’t hurt. If they want they can take it further on their own.

He goes back to the agent's unit and makes himself comfortable. He shuts the door and goes to the cupboard to grab some clothes. The agent was about his size so the clothes will fit fine. He doesn't pay attention to what he selects. It's mostly black anyway.

He peels away the clothes that have become like a second skin and steps into the shower. The water is rejuvenating and feels like he’s starting anew once he finally makes himself presentable again. He even washes his hair.

He changes the bed sheets before collapsing onto the mattress. After all he doesn't know where that Hydra agent's been. Then he sleeps.

  


 

He’s wrenched violently into consciousness at two in the morning when a door slams open in the hallway. He pulls the gun out from under his pillow and hurries to the agent’s door to listen. He doesn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it is.

Steve is awake.

He leans in to watch him stride down the hallway through the peephole. His hair is sleep mussed and his eyes are glassy.

“Bucky?” he calls softly, trying not to wake his neighbours.

He jerks his face away and turns to lean against the door. He can still hear Steve’s footsteps. He slides down until he’s sitting on the floor and listens to him outside with deep, even breaths until he gives up and goes back into his apartment.

He knows how easy it could be. To go and knock on Steve’s door. But he can’t.

He’s not ready.

Not yet.

  


 

He’s sitting there in stolen underwear watching the news with a bowl of cereal when the newsreader mentions a break in to IKEA the next morning. He chews thoughtfully and thinks of what kind of mistake he made as he watches.

She talks about the lack of proof that anything was stolen and his forehead crinkles in confusion. Not until the camera pans to the front of the store and the pile of things he stole for Steve which mysteriously turned up during the night.

Steve returned everything.

He rolls his eyes and keeps chewing. Message received.

He quickly finishes his food and then makes himself presentable. He grabs a long sleeve Henley and locates black gloves to cover his metal hand. Then he heads into the centre of the city where all of the clubs are.

The first one won’t even listen to him without any proper identification. He wasn’t carrying any when he ran. The assignment had been reconnaissance. They hadn’t bothered to give him a cover.

He wishes they had. Now he’s a ghost. Without an identity.

He learns from the first failure. Goes next to the seediest looking club he can find.

“You need any muscle?” he asks the bartender as he cleans shot glasses with a dirty rag.

The guy shrugs without interest. “You offering?”

He nods, lets his metal arm rest on the counter to show the strength in his arms. “I can bounce for you. Keep out those causing trouble.”

The guy raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh yeah? You done this before?”

“I was in the army. Afghanistan.”

He scoffs disbelieving so when he reaches for another glass he plucks it out of his grip and crushes it within his metal hand. The bartender’s eyes widen.

“When can you start?”

He lets the shards fall away. “Tonight.”

  


 

They pay him cash in hand. It’s the first steady job he’s had since the war. And the pay is much better. The first thing he does once his shift is over is go back to his apartment to wash the stink of booze and sweat off. He throws some food together from the fridge- the agent didn’t let his milk go sour- and sits down for a meal.

He hears Steve moving about his apartment. Knows that he's waiting for him. His heart pumps a little faster but stays seated on his stool and eats dinner. Like an average Joe.

The mechanism in his arm whirls with every mouthful and for once he doesn’t hate the sound of it.

 

He goes to IKEA during the daylight hours. Through the front door this time. Like a model citizen. Different store so as to not arouse suspicion. He pays for everything in cash and when he ducks into Steve’s apartment that afternoon after knowing he’s gone for a run, he leaves all of the stuff again.

With the receipt attached to the wooden knife block.

  


 

His next shift is pretty uneventful. They leave him at the door but figure out quickly he’s not so good at socialising so they move him into patrolling inside the club. He stalks through the strobe lighting and loud music to keep an eye on everything. 

He watches the women mostly to keep an eye on them. He knows a thing or two about what happens to unescorted dames. 

It’s easier with everyone drunk. Some of the girls get a little doll dizzy. But it’s mostly harmless. He can see more than everyone else and kicks out the rough or rowdy ones. He switches out a guy’s drink when he sees him slip something into the girl's he’s sitting next to. Watches him drink the drugged one before kicking him out.

He prevents a glassing before it hurts someone. Breaks the guys thumb _accidentally _as he shows him out. He walks home to the rising sun and breathes it all in. He expands with it.__

Sunrise has never looked more beautiful.

“Bucky?”

His head snaps up. And it’s Steve. Of course it’s Steve. Out on his early morning jog. Why hadn’t he checked the routes he usually takes in order to avoid him?

His face is slightly flushed which means he’s probably already run 16 miles. And his face. He breaks out into a smile. Eyes alight with relief.

“I’m not- I don’t,” he stammers trying to look anywhere but into Steve’s eyes. 

It’s a lost cause.

So he doesn’t try to fight it.

He runs.

  


 

He bolts off in the direction of the nearest alley. So panicked he can’t even remember if it’s a dead end. Steve’s been running for miles and they both have some form of Erskine’s serum running through their veins but Steve somehow is bearing down on him after only one block.

His arm wraps around his chest from behind and tugs him backwards. He can’t think at the warmth pressed at his back as Steve turns him around and crowds him up against the brickwork.

“Would you stop running please?” Steve says. “I know you’ve been in my apartment these past few days. I’m not being watched by SHIELD. You'd be safe there. Trust me.”

He does trust Steve more than anything. That just might be the problem.

He's not so sure that he's earned it. 

“I’m not him,” he rushes out. “I’m not Bucky.”

Steve smiles and it’s the saddest thing he’s ever seen. “You don’t have to be. I just want to help you.”

He needs to get away. From Steve. Needs to think about this more. But the grip on his arms tells him Steve doesn’t plan to let go.

So instead of pushing away he changes tactics. Pulls Steve closer, kisses him full on the mouth. He feels the slightest pressure of Steve responding to it before he releases him.

“Wait,” he gasps. “I don’t want-“

He doesn’t wait for the rest.

He’s gone before Steve can finish the sentence.

  


 

He goes to the locksmith as soon as their doors open. Orders the installation of a deadbolt for Steve's apartment. He would do it himself but he thinks he might not be welcome there anymore after the stunt he just pulled. The window is forever barred from him.

It doesn't mean he won't still protect Steve. 

He gets caught on his way back to his apartment. Not by Steve but by the old woman who's his next door neighbour. He lies and says he's just moved into the building. She insists that he come in for afternoon tea and cookies. The cookies are mouthwatering and he vows to return back to her apartment to make it as secure as Steve's is. If at the very least to protect the cookie recipe. 

He leaves a little bewildered with a couple extra cookies and a big dish of lasagne which he intends to eat as soon as possible. He doesn't know what Steve's problem is. He would never have left Gloria's lasagne uneaten. Running that morning and working all night leaves him starving and he digs into the free food as soon as he's back into 6D. 

He eats the whole thing. 

It's so good that he risks going back into Steve's apartment that night- the window's still open in fact- and liberates the lasagne in the fridge from Steve's hands. He leaves the cookies Gloria gave him but. 

He figures that's an even trade.  


  


He's got three things left on his list before he's finished. And one of those needs Hydra intel for it. He knows where the remaining base is in DC and that SHIELD hasn't found it yet. He gears up and goes early in the morning to allow enough time to make it to his shift that night and heads over there to get what he wants. 

He gets in quickly. Finds Steve's file easily enough. Nearly every Hydra base has one. Two left on the list now. 

Getting out is more problematic. He sets off their alarms trying to climb out the vents. So he doubles back and takes care of the problem. At least sixty personnel. He gets them all. 

Without so much as a paper cut. It gets hairy at the end. He runs out of cable ties once he gets to the fifty range and is reduced to de-arming agents and tying them to one another to save materials. Plus removing their capsules takes time. By the time he's finished the agents gathered in the comms centre are mostly deeply offended rather than seriously harmed. 

He leaves with what he came for and makes sure to fire his gun into the glass of the building to draw police. Leaves the secret entrance uncovered so they can't miss it and hopes SHIELD will sort it out from there. He heads home. Drops into Gloria's for more cookies then heads off to work. 

Weekdays he doesn't finish too late but he's exhausted by the time that he gets home. Not enough to ignore the unmistakable slide of Steve's deadlock when he returns. 

It's the first time he sleeps through the night.  
  
  


  


He heads over toward the locksmith again. Purchases a deadbolt himself this time and breaks into Gloria's apartment when she goes to her evening spin class. He installs it quickly and efficiently. Then goes and sorts out the windows. One thing left on his list. He gently shuts the door behind him, mouth full of nails and carrying tools in his hands. 

"You live here don't you?" Steve asks behind him, amused. 

He tries not to drop everything. Doesn't know why he didn't hear him. He pulls the nails from his mouth, licking his lips as he turns. He stares at Steve. 

"Gloria only offers cookies and lasagne to new residents," Steve explains at his expression. "If you live here. Is there any way- I mean, would you rather live with me?" 

He doesn't let his eyes drift tellingly toward 6D. "Why would you- When you know I'm not-?" 

Steve smiles patiently. "I know. I said I want to help you and I meant that. Though it seems you're much better at helping yourself and SHIELD. Especially with all those Hydra members you captured. So Bu- I'm sorry, what name do you go by?" 

The question startles him. He hasn't thought about it before. Just knows he's not Bucky. And he's not the Winter Soldier. 

Something in between. Maybe. 

"I don't know," he admits. "I didn't have a cover when I escaped." 

Steve scratches idly at his jaw as he thinks. "You may not be Bucky but you're still James Barnes. How does James sound?" 

He thinks he might actually like it. It's him in a way. 

"I still want you," he announces, standing straighter and he can hear it's all Bucky's swagger in his voice. Over confident. And cocky. 

Steve doesn't recoil but it does fluster him. He can see it from the pink tinge that works across his jaw. "I- This is all so confusing," he admits, scratching his head. "I always loved Bucky. But I'll love you no matter who you are. You've been made to do terrible things. But that's not your fault. There is goodness still in you. Which is why those Hydra agents are in custody and not dead." 

He nods slowly. Wonders what Steve is actually trying to say. "I can help you find the rest," he says. "I've been in cryo for a while but I've been to nearly every base." 

Steve accepts the information but doesn't press for more. He seems to reach a decision about what to say. 

"I'm willing to try and figure this out with you. If we take things slow. Would you like to move in with me James? So I don't have to keep my window open for you?" 

"I have to go to work," James says quickly. "Can I think about it and get back to you?" 

Steve's eyebrows go up at his words but he smiles good naturedly and reaches out a hand to shake. After a moments hesitation James slips his hand into the warmth of Steve's. It feels like it might fit perfectly. In time. 

"It's nice to finally meet you."  
  
  


  


He goes back to his apartment and gets ready for work whilst reading Erskine's file. He gets to the part about diet and the amount of calories needed to be consumed daily and makes a grocery list in his head. He goes shopping when his shift ends, passing the woman from 1A and the man from 3B climbing the staircase with a bottle of wine in hand and easy going smiles. A warm feeling floods he chest. 

He bypasses 6D and goes directly to Steve's door. 

This time he knocks.  
  
  


  


He finishes his Tuesday morning tea and cookies with Gloria and leaves her with a kiss to the cheek when he hears Steve out on the landing. 

He got back from Fury's assignment yesterday while Steve and Sam were on the other side of the country closing the net on the remaining fleeing Hydra agents. He'd just finished an all night shift at the bar- a less seedier establishment he's working in now since Steve helped him reclaim the identity of James Barnes- and he would normally want nothing more than to sleep it off. 

His nightmares are less frequent now. But still always there. And no less terrifying. He has bad days. Like everyone. But he has something better than sleep waiting for him now. 

It's a couple months into living with Steve and they still haven't really addressed the issue of want between them. They kiss. Share the same bed but it's never gone further than that. And Steve hasn't pushed the issue, letting him get comfortable in his new surroundings. 

But James is pushing now. 

He unlocks the door and follows Steve into the bedroom where he's stripping off his shirt. Wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him hard. 

"Jesus, Barnes," he gasps, laughing as he's pushed back onto the bed. They've realised he likes being called Barnes better than James most days so Steve's adjusted accordingly. It feels more familiar to him. More natural. 

Just like what presses against his crotch as he moves in Steve's lap. 

"I want you, Steve," he murmurs before sucking a hickey onto his throat. Steve tips his head back and leisurely moves his hips. 

"Are you sure you're ready?" 

"Yes," he barks letting the frustration ring clear as he grinds down harder. Steve laughs again. 

"In what position would you feel more safer? Top or bottom?" 

He considers the question. The mechanics of it. He knows he's done things like that for Hydra. That memory didn't stay buried for long. But he thinks he wants to take care of Steve. Make him feel good. He's not ready yet for the level of intense adoration Steve will put into his lovemaking. "I think topping for now. Then move our way up to both." 

Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "I can work with that." 

James hums in agreement and gets started on Steve's belt whilst reaching for the nightstand's drawer he knows Steve hides lube in. Steve shucks his pants and helpfully turns over to give him a better angle to prepare him. His fingers trace along Steve's spine and rather then shying from the smooth touch of metal Steve leans into it. 

He sighs softly at his eagerness. Traces his fingers along Steve's underwear before he tugs it off and past his knees, letting Steve do the rest. He pops the cap of the lube and moves to smooth it over the fingers of his right hand but Steve makes a reluctant sound and he realises he's turned back to watch. 

"Use you other hand," Steve suggests at his confusion. "I trust you." 

He hesitates before he lets the lube slide over the metal. "If the lube messes up the wiring Tony will kill us." 

Steve twists back and resumes his earlier position. He tilts his hips higher, exposing his ass invitingly and his mouth goes dry at the sight. "He'd probably die laughing first. But it'll be fine, don't worry." 

His lubed metal fingers probe the rim of Steve's asshole and the soft, satisfied sigh Steve makes at the sensation of the first finger entering him is life endangering. 

"Steve, you're killing me, pal," he mutters, twisting to find the spot that will light Steve up inside. 

"I think you'll survive," Steve says, groaning when he finds his prostate and presses down hard. 

On the next sound, he adds another finger and manoeuvres himself under Steve so he can get his mouth on his cock. Steve lets out a punched out noise and thrusts shallowly into his mouth. He sucks hard before he pulls off and licks the tip; tasting Steve's precum before he envelops him entirely. 

"James," he says, strangled. "This won't last long." 

He wants to say its a good thing they both have super serum but he's too busy, working Steve harder as he finger's his ass. Steve really doesn't last. He shudders into orgasm just as he fits a third finger inside him and the feeling of Steve clenching around his fingers makes his dick twitch as he swallows. 

Steve doesn't lose his hardness. Just works his hips back for more, pushing him deeper. He pulls off and bites out his groan into the skin of Steve's hip. Gives him what he wants. He slides out from under the v of Steve's legs, keeping his fingers moving in his ass and gets behind him. He pops the button of his jeans hastily and one handedly shimmies them past his hips and to his knees. He doesn't bother with getting them further than that. 

He can't wait. Steve passes him a condom and he shakily rolls it onto his cock before he's withdrawing his fingers and pressing within. Steve shudders and drops his chest further into the pillows, tilting his hips higher so that as he sheaths himself inside, James also slides deeper. He presses his face into Steve's sweaty back and loses himself in the sensation. 

He can feel Steve adjust around him and once he has the okay he punches forward, hips snapping brutally with the thrust. It's actual agony. He doesn't understand why Steve deprived them for so long as the warmth of his body clutches his cock tight and welcomes him in. He tries not to blow his load straight off the bat but it's a close one. Steve feels too good. 

He reaches out his lubed metal hand without thinking but Steve takes it anyway, interlocking their fingers as he uses his other hand to help control his thrusts. He loves the feeling and can't wait until it's Steve returning the favour. He comes when he starts hitting his prostate and Steve clenches in retaliation. 

He's not done yet. Pulls out and flips Steve onto his back and pushes his legs up as he slides back inside. The angle feels tighter and he knows his second orgasm is quickly approaching so he reaches out to jerk Steve off in time with his hips snapping forward. 

He leans up to capture Steve's mouth in a messy kiss and groans into it when Steve spurts all over his fingers. 

The tight clutch of Steve's body is too much when its twitching in satisfaction and James' second orgasm isn't entirely a surprise. 

He collapses onto Steve's chest, mindless of the drying come and listens to his rapid heartbeat. 

"I love you," he says and for once he's not saying it as James or Bucky or the Winter Soldier. For once he feels whole. He's saying it as a person. A person entirely in love with Steve Rogers. He's become human again. The very last thing he needed to cross off his list. 

"I love you too," Steve responds leaning down to kiss his mouth. 

The man in love with Steve Rogers smiles.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Дерьмо́- shit
> 
> Идиот- idiot


End file.
